


The Things Women Know

by gladheonsleeps



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Cunnalingus, Damsel in distress Loki, F/M, Frigga is nice, Loki likes it rough, Nerd Loki, Odin's A+ Parenting, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, SMUT!, Sif is a bit of a dom, Sif is a horndog, Sif sees something she's not supposed to, Sifki - Freeform, but I don't think they're graphic, depictions of violence, fire giants - Freeform, frost giant magic, graphic depictions of sex, however, pre Thor, pre thor loki, self rescuing princess loki, sif wants the silvertongue, that's a thing, young loki, young sif and loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 01:27:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10561064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gladheonsleeps/pseuds/gladheonsleeps
Summary: Sif walks in on Loki doing something she'd never really thought about before and finds herself with quite the oral fixationWill she ever be able to experience this pleasure for herself? Or more importantly, will Loki ever want to do it with her?basically Sif is horny af and really really wants dat silvertongue





	

**Author's Note:**

> So in pretty much ever story I write, Loki and Sif were a thing before anything else in their younger years. This isn't a prequel at all to any of them, but I wanted to play with these two for a bit to deal with my random sifki feels that I get every now and then. 
> 
> sue me, they;re hot (ok please don't actually sue me marvel owns these characters etc etc) 
> 
> hey! here's an older Loki flashing silvertongue
> 
> anyway hope you enjoy!

Sif was a warrior. It went as deep as her bones; as some of her scars attested, the blade scraping the very structure that held her up, the muscle and sinew healing over the grooves left in her bone.

But just as deeply wrought was her identity as a woman. And as a woman, she knew there were some assumptions that were dangerous to make. And so, when she heard a pained female cry from a room she’d seen the second prince slip into while she was making her way to her room in the officers quarters of the palace she turned back the way she’d come determined to lend a hand if necessary.  

Sif stifled down her first instinct to trust her shield brother and sovereign, who she would never guess to be a sexual predator despite the rumours that flew around about the second prince. But despite her opinions of the person in question at the bottom of it all, Loki was a man, and men seemed to think that everything belonged to them, or was just waiting for them to take.

And prince or not, Sif thought, hearing a small whimper as she rounded the last corner, she would give him a flogging if she found him assaulting a fellow of her sex. And he’d be thanking her that she didn’t put a sharp object through his skull by the end of it.

Sif snuck inside carefully, knowing that prince Loki was incredibly sensitive to even the smallest shifts and sounds about his person but what the shield maiden saw was not as she expected _at all_.

She scolded herself harshly even as her eyes widened at the sight before her. Perhaps she should have said no to that last cup or two of mead as her usually sharp instincts could not have been more wrong.

Distracted as they were by their current activities the couple were thankfully _completely_ ignorant of her presence and Sif thanked the laughing fates for that. The woman, who had arrived with a party from Alfheim yesterday and whose cries of passion Sif had mistaken for far more sinister sounds lay sprawled on her back on top of the bed clothes, with eyes shut and unbound breasts heaving, her elegant long legs spread as wide as they would go. For his part the prince had her pinned with his own arms curled around them while he feasted deliriously on her quim, slurping at her flesh as a man starved. His brows were crossed with concentrated pleasure that Sif recognised from her time dining at the royal table since her youth from times when the prince had bitten into something particularly delectable and the young warrior was startled to realise the woman wasn’t the only one making noises which she now realised were of pleasure of the most intense sort.

It took a moment for Sif to get over her fright and exit the room silently as she’d come, hoping against hope the prince and his guest had never been aware of her presence, distracted as they were by his activities.

She moved as quickly as she could away from the scene of her mistake, face flaming despite her wishes, and even worse, her own quim flooding with desire after she vision of the two utterly beautiful creatures burned itself onto her retinas. The silk of her dress flew about her as she ran through empty halls to her room.

Sif was hardly virginal. She believed heartily in taking what she wanted from a man, but all that she knew about that centred around his cock. Her favourite was riding astride a man and fucking him relentlessly until she came explosively. And if he was a good boy he would be allowed to come himself.

Her sensibilities as they were, she was somewhat disappointed to find that there was yet another way to gain her pleasure from a man that she had never known about. If this was the kind of thing her friends learned on those trips they made to Alfheim without her, she would be insisting on an invite next time.

She slammed herself inside  her quarters, locking the door and finding one of her leather gloves to shove into her mouth; her quarters being quite inappropriate for the kind of sounds that elf maiden had been making. Sif threw her skirts up, the sky silk living up to its name, floating up almost as if without gravity but Sif was ignorant of all of that as she leaned against the wall and plunged her hand into her knickers, gasping as her fingers touched aching flesh.

Sif’s eyes closed, picturing the face of the man she had always, would always love. Her impossible crush had begun right at the beginning in their childhood and had only increased in devotion as the prince had grown more and more beautiful and powerful with age.

She bit down on leather as she thought of Loki’s green eyes looking up at her as she sat astride his face, holding him in place by those soft midnight locks her fingers always itched to touch.

She brushed the lips of her quim with her finger, thinking of how his silvered tongue would feel, working herself as she had witnessed in that short at time she had been in that room, frozen against the wall. Soon enough she was breaking over the edge, coming undone at the thoughts that raced through her head.

 

...

 

Sif worked hard, in the following months to erase the images of what she had seen without the prince’s consent that night. While she was glad to know his tastes were still only for that which was freely given, the way in which she had found out left her burning with guilt.

The way in which she had responded was even less honourable, and she had refused to give in to her body’s needs since; throwing herself into practice instead, and incidentally the injuries on the practice rings increased as the fools who wished for a beating from her were never scarce. The wise ones, such as her friends avoided sparring her while her moods were thus. They only watched from the sidelines and laughed and cheered as she brutalised those who were either more courageous or stupid' enough to try to best the ‘red dragon’, as the troops had started calling her when they suspected it was her time.

As many jokes as were told about her moods and where they came from had long ago worn out amongst her friends when she gave as good as she got any time they were in a mood of their own, as Sif was incredibly proud of her sex and knew better than any how moody and emotional men could be and she never let them forget it. Usually, Sif was the most steadfast of them all, other than Hogun who was of Vanaheim and had ways of calming himself other than the physical release those of Asgard tended to favour.

Even so, Sif’s blood continued to burn like fire through her veins, and Loki was never far from her thoughts. Every time she was around him she found her panties soaked and heart racing.

She tried to avoid him as much as possible, scolding herself for her lack of discipline and proper respect for her shield brother and prince.

Finally she had some reprieve when he left on an expedition with some scholars to Muspellheim.

For the first time in months Sif felt like she could see one of her lovers without accidently screaming her prince’s name at an awkward time.

She had a roster of men who enjoyed her rough touch and dominant demeanour. None of them wished to ever admit it out loud, which suited Sif fine; she had no need of her business being whispered around the barracks. It was hard enough as a woman without that mess to deal with.

She took an old friend called Jonas among the weapons storage after a particularly vigorous spar, even letting the big man kiss her afterwards, so grateful was she for the release and sense of lightness he helped her gain. She sent him off ahead of her with one last pet of his curly haired head and cleaned up after them, making sure no one would know what she had been getting up to in that part of the grounds.

She was due to visit with her brother today and was now late, so she headed straight to the stables to ready her horse Mjúkur and ride down to the observatory still in her training gear; her sweat stained leather breastplate, hardly decorated at all but for some roughly etched thistles tooled on the straps. Her light linen tunic was filthy with the red dust of the training yards stuck to her with sweat and a little of Jonas’ blood from their bout. Her stone practice sword, a gift from her long passed father was hewn of marble, nice and heavy to train with, strapped to her back and two bottles filled with water to weigh her down. She always liked to train while burdened with things of awkward shapes and differing weights, changing it up every day so that she would never be found wanting on the battleground. Such eccentric habits were often laughed at but she was laughed at anyway, and she had less of a natural advantage than any of them, and so she worked always harder. And it paid off.

Heimdall gave her a cheeky raised eyebrow when he saw her and she gave his shoulder a shove, hardly moving the great man from where he stood; for all her own famed strength her brother was a giant.

“How goes the worlds?

Heimdall smiled at the question she always asked. “There are many wonderful things happening on this day.” He said, as usual totally vague with information but that was his job. He was only there to see for the Allfather, not curious baby sisters.

She stayed there for a while, staring out at the ever present ether, wondering privately which stars Muspel sailed around when Heimdall straightened. “Sif. Have you a weapon? Are you battle ready?”

She raised her eyebrows, in surprise, touching her marble blade. “uh...”

Heimdall gave her a quick look over as he moved over to the bifrost mechanism. “That sword is in fact perfect. Our prince is under attack I will send you to him presently. I will gather more aid and send them to you as soon as I can.” He said. He finally looked at her once more when she moved onto the bifrost floor. “Good, you have water. You will need it.” and he started the bifrost.

“How far are they from the bifrost site?” she called over the noise.

Heimdall gave a sharp grin, “Only _just_ close enough. You’ll have quite a fall.”

They’d practiced over the centuries; she and her brother, the warriors three and the princes, working around bifrost landing sites. If Heimdall got his calculations right, he could aim her at the bifrost site but drop her just before, circumventing the laws only slightly in order to save time. The only catch was that it left you in the sky. You had to work out your landing on your own.

 So it was that Sif was prepared to be dropped by the bifrost in mid air, falling lightly onto horseback. She sat just behind Loki, who muttered “Hullo Sif, glad you could drop in,” barely registering her presence, so intent was he on shielding himself and his group from the fire being thrown at them from the two giants surrounding he and his party.  His formidable and steadfast mount Snjókorn, used to such things was just as unruffled by her arrival.

Sif took stock of her surroundings, at the terrified scholars, at the giants, the sweat running down Loki’s neck, the burns on his face and thigh and right arm, and the strain he seemed to be under. There was one other who was armed in their party, Loki’s apprentice Isak; and though Loki made sure he practiced weaponry -something rare for a mage to require of his apprentice- Isak was still young and utterly unprepared for such an eventuality, and was also injured with burns. No, one so young should not have to face fire giants like this.

(Of course she and her friends including Loki had done just that at his age but they were unusually proactive in searching out challenging battles.)

 It was also clear that the giants had little interest in the rest of the party but knew exactly who she was on a horse with. It was currently the Muspellheim version of a winter, so though it was hot it wasn’t as oppressive as it could be. But Loki had always been sensitive to the heat. Thusly injured, Sif was impressed with his current composure. But then she always was.

 She finally spoke, near a whisper so as not to break his concentration. “What would you have me do, sire?”

“Do you have water with you?” He asked, and Sif grunted in affirmation. “A drink if you please?” Sif carefully took off one of her water weights, glad she wore her larger ones today. She uncorked the lid and leaned forwards, avoiding his injuries as she held it to Loki’s lips as he drank greedily, downing at least a litre while still concentrating on the shields. When he was finally finished she capped it but held on to it waiting for his next order, still looking at the enemy, who were circling around. “Thank you.” He seemed to be thinking, weighing something up, and finally spoke again, his voice uncertain. “I am going to try something drastic.”

“Sire Heimdall said he would be sending back up, it shouldn’t be too long if you can wait.”

He shook his head. “They’re breaking me down here. Soon isn’t soon enough. Just- be ready. Oh, and if you could douse me with the rest of that canteen I’d be much obliged.”

Raising her eyebrows but used to Loki’s odd requests she uncorked it and poured the rest of the water weight over him, making sure to give special attention to his hurts. He hissed in pain as the water hit his burns but his shields barely wavered.

Sif strapped her other water weight onto Snjókorn, then stretched her arms and her back. She was still pretty warm after practice and her extra circulars with Jonas, so she was sure she wouldn’t get injured on her part. She then stilled, ready for Loki’s move.

He stilled even further, his mass seeming to fold into itself, charging the air around him as tended to happen when he worked a major magic then suddenly the air around them grew cold. Goosebumps raised the hair on Sif’s arms and the back of her neck. In an instant the shield was down and a stream of ice was leaving his hands instead, hitting the closest giant square in the chest. The giant hissed and collapsed. Sif was shocked at how easy that had seemed, considering she had never seen him do such a thing before. But there was little time to ponder on it as the other one was larger by far, and coming towards them at a run. Loki and Sif leapt off of Snjókorn’s back and Loki formed a weapon of ice from his hand while Sif bared her stone sword.

The giantess went for Loki, but was quite able to fend them both off with her own pair of flaming weapons.

It all happened so fast that she was unable to recall the precise order of events, but right when Sif could have sworn they had her, the giantess put a blade through Loki’s shoulder, the power behind it throwing him to the ground with a serious knock tot the head. Sif’s quick glance to ascertain he still lived had her wincing at the sight of the rumpled mage, the flaming sword still burning down to embers in the grave wound.

Sif called to him, even as she parried the giantess’ crushing blows as she continued to try to drive her away from her sovereign. Even so she ended up standing over the prince and desperately defending him despite the damage Loki had done with his magical ice.

Knowing help was coming at some point Sif was loathe to give up; she kept her foe away with vicious ferocity, resorting to scrappy fighting moves like some mother hen defending her nest.

Teeth bared and sweat soaked she found her breaths laboured and exhaustion coming on like a bigelsnipe charge. The stone sword did not burn or weaken on contact with the giantess’ weapon but it was _heavy_ , her foe throwing even more weight behind her blows making parrying more of a challenge than Sif thought she’d ever found it. Finally as Sif fell for an easy feint in her wearied state she was disarmed with a burning blow to her forearms. She lost her weapon with a pained roar, keeping her arms up in a protective stance despite the searing pain. The giantess pushed her back, managing a serious burn to her chest through her simple leather jerkin, the weapon burning though her light practice gauntlets and she winced as she heard her stone sword made a loud thud as it hit the ground so hard it snapped off in the distance.

But Sif had been fighting with people much larger than her since her ninety ninth birthday. She pushed the giantess back, and they both breathed heavily, Sif not quite ready to raise from her haphazardly protective position half straddling the prince where she’d collapsed to one knee during the giant’s onslaught.

The giantess grinned as she saw her tiny foe weaponless on her knees, and her prince prone and defenceless, his shoulder still burning from her fire magic. The flaming woman went for Loki but Sif was quicker, gracelessly heaving the mage’s uninjured arm up between her legs, standing to throw power behind with his icy sword still protruding from his hand.

The desperate move was just enough, the ice cutting through the woman’s belly easily, Sif grimaced and braced her legs, hauling Loki up and slicing upwards to disembowel her foe.

She shrieked; the sound likes steam escaping as she crumbled to the ground as ashes.

And then there was silence but for Sif’s laboured breathing and Loki’s more quiet puffs of air that nevertheless told her he still lived.

She gently settled Loki’s arm back on the ground and looked around, wiping the sweat from her brow with the tatters of her linen shirt; the scholars it seemed were thankfully not the dreadfully silly kind that Loki occasionally introduced to her, these at least seemed to have some sense of self preservation and practicality. Knowing that concern for their safety would only jeopardise the warriors they had started toward the bifrost site, though Snjókorn had remained at a safe distance and was even now coming towards them at a run. Isak and his own mount followed just behind him.

She unclipped her water weight from the horse, dousing Loki and the sword, still red with heat in water, thankfully putting out the fires on his person with a hiss of steam and sodden smoke. She turned the prince over, clicking her tongue in consternation at the map of injuries and differing temperatures on his person. “Gods damn all it Loki your Father will not be happy with me.”

Snjókorn joined her presently, the horse was distressed at the state of his owner but Sif calmed him in soothing clicks and tones, telling him it would be alright. “Let’s get him home hmmm? Shall we take him to the healers little snowflake?” Snjókorn seemed to think this was a solid plan as he settled, and stopped trying to rouse Loki by nudging him with his nose which was hardly helpful at this juncture but Sif had to admit such a habit from her own beloved mount had saved her life more than once. Even as he stepped back Snjókorn huffed his stern disappointment at Sif for letting Loki get into that state. Sif sighed. So it was not just Odin’s upset she had to contend with.

Even with his horse’s persistent efforts Loki had refused to come to, with the knock to his head as he fell but his breathing and pulse were reasonably stable and he wasn’t bleeding, the one benefit of a fire giant’s sword was that it cauterized your wound while it was making it. She didn’t think Loki’s body was all that happy with that fact though.

They had never known why, but the prince had always been sensitive to heat. Burns took longer to heal and he tended to spend midsummer in his mother’s winter palace on Vanaheim, claiming his particular love for midwinter festivities, but his friends knew that the heat at the height of summer left him weak and sickly, hardly even able to read, which was a state indeed when it came to Loki.

The drenching did seem to help though and she held the water to his lips and tried to pour some into the prince’s mouth, looking up as Isak reached them and swiftly dismounted.

“Is there a spell that you can do to get him to drink?” she asked him, knowing battlefield first aid was something mages learned early in their education. The boy nodded and crouched down, taking the canteen from her and taking over administering hydration while Sif figured out how to get Loki home. “Can you lift him?” Sif asked, but Isak shook his head he was only something like 150 so it wasn’t a surprise. Sif wondered why magic users tended to be more weedy and thin and unlike every other Asgardian in general but that was a question for another time.

She left the sword in, despite its awfulness, she wasn’t an expert with healing, Hogun and Loki were far more proficient. But she new enough not to pull a weapon out of a stab wound. She strapped Loki’s arms down, the injured one so that it would not be jolted in their travels and the other so that the ice that remained would help the extreme burns on his shoulder from the giants’ tender handling.

 “OK. I will lift him, and then you hold him in place while I mount behind him.” Sif instructed, and carefully lifted Loki. Snjókorn got as low as he could, and Sif was able to manoeuvre Loki onto his back with little trouble. She then mounted and held Loki tightly, starting toward the bifrost site with Isak following closely next to her so that he could catch Loki if he fell. Fat lot of chance there was of that though. Sif had some nasty burns on her own chest and arms but she wasn’t letting Loki go. She hoped Isak wouldn’t tattle on her about how closely she held him to her. But feeling his breaths through their armour was reassuring after such a trying day.

As they reached the bifrost site and the scholars she saw them all looking at Loki’s unconscious face and his hands with a certain shaken awe and a little fear on their faces. Confused, she asked them what was wrong.

The oldest one was wearing an expression like he’d seen a ghost. “In my entire ten thousand years madam, I have never met a sorcerer who could recreate the magic of the frost giants. I knew he’d been studying the subject but-

“The prince simply must be the greatest living sorcerer in the nine realms. _And_ he’s still actively seeking out things to learn _constantly_. His hunger for knowledge is rather renowned.” He coughed. “We have all witnessed history here today, I’ll tell you that much. I think Sigmund over there is already sketching up a book in the subject already.”

Sigmund, a rather young scholar blushed and Sif smiled as the other scholars all chuckled around them, feeling that giddy release one felt once a danger is passed.

Sif thought on what the man had said. They of course had known Loki was talented but the _greatest_?

She didn’t get to finish that thought as the bifrost hit them then, taking them home to Asgard and her famed healers.

 

...

 

Sif refused to let go of the prince on arrival in Asgard, only detaching herself from his broken body when they arrived at the healing rooms and healers more stubborn than even she was pulled her away to see to her own wounds while a whole team of royal surgeons worked on the Prince’s injuries.

It was late into the night when a healers’ apprentice came out to where Sif had been waiting, still stinking of sweat and blood and burnt leather to tell her of Loki’s fate.

Frigga and Odin had been let into the private royal healing chamber of course but the solid golden doors had refused Thor when he tried to enter when he and the warriors had joined them.

Young Isak sat with them too after they’d patched him up. He was pale faced and clearly shaken beyond anything he’d ever been before. But had faithfully waited with them for news of his master’s wholeness. The warriors and Thor tried to settle the lad’s heart with tails of their own first ill fated attempts at fighting fire giants, and moved onto other tales that were more honest about how bad they had all been at fighting and remaining whole they were in the early days; stories which were often passed over for tales that cast them all in more favourable light were more often told at feasts but these seemed to settle the boy.

First each of the men whined about a time that Sif had wildly out manned them all by rescuing them like damsels, making the lad feel better. Then they started on the frequency that Loki had saved all of their arses in the old days, and, in truth, these days still.

Isak seemed buoyed beyond measure that he would one day be in a position to save others as he had failed to do this day if he kept learning his craft. It wasn’t something the warriors often admitted, how vital Loki’s magic was to their pack of warriors but the truth was that he’d save every single one of them. They’d all saved one another over the years; each member of their group had been dragged back to Asgard just as Sif had carried Loki, and brought back to health just as Loki would be now. By the time the healers stepped out to bring them news the boy seemed just about ready to race back to his rooms and practice spells into the night.

Loki was whole but sleeping peacefully. He was recovering from dehydration and extensive burns, but he would be back to full wellness within a few days.

Sif gratefully took the arm Thor offered to help her stand and endured Thor’s tear-sodden hug and repeated thanks for her work in saving his brother this day. She allowed him to walk her to her quarters where she decided to sleep rather than bathes and plopped fully clothed onto the top of her bed and slept until Hogun knocked on her door at midday the next day.

 

...

 

Hogan, her steadfast friend was slow to speak and even slower to smile but was really good at wrestling stubborn, sleepy warriors into the baths, muttering all the time about the barbariaric Aesir. As he’d known she would Sif felt far more alive once rid of the dirt, sweat and blood of yesterday’s battle. And once she’d submitted to the tender handling of the masseuse on duty she thought she might perhaps be alive enough to stomach some food and mead at a local tavern.

There she told her friends the story of their battle in the kind of detail she had been unable to muster the energy for the night before while Loki’s wellbeing was in question. And Thor was able to fill in her story with details that Sif had not known, such as who they had actually fought and why they had brazenly attacked a prince of Asgard in the first place.

“A religious sect?”

“Yes, apparently he and the scholars had journeyed over to study some matters that the attackers thought was unacceptable for foreigners to have knowledge of.” Thor shrugged, not knowing why Loki was so interested in such things but he was who he was.

Sif harrumphed. They had been foolish and brazen to attack so close to the bifrost site that Heimdall would surely be watching. She pulled a face as she thought over it again. “But they didn’t attack all of the scholars, they only wanted to kill Loki.”

Thor shrugged. “Yes that is strange. All I know is what I’ve been told. Perhaps only Loki was told of some of it or something?”

Sif nodded, but was still too tired and in pain to think too hard on it.

As they all started back to the palace to ready themselves for the feast Odin was throwing that night Thor took her aside. “Sif I wanted to thank you once more for racing to my brother’s side. You know how I worry for him. Thank you for being there when I could not be.”

Sif smiled and took his clap on the back with as much grace as she could muster. “In fact it was Loki who made ensured we would win. Without his quick thinking with the ice-” Sif didn’t go on, she didn’t really need to.

“Yes that is something I had no idea he could do.” Thor said, his tone tight with simmering anger. Sif decided to smooth it over if she could, for Loki’s sake. Thor’s hatred of the frost giants was legendary.

“Some of the scholars were saying he has been studying it. But Thor, you know that most of the knowledge Loki chases after is for military strategy and improving our defence. I’m sure his interest is only to continue to ensure the safety of Asgard. And thank Norns he did. If he hadn’t-”

Thor took a deep breath to calm himself and nodded, clapping Sif on the back once more. “You’re right. Of course you are. And you are also right that that knowledge saved his life so it was not for naught after all. Oh. The reason I pulled you aside was that they found your sword. It was unsalvageable I’m afraid.”

Sif’s shoulders sagged. She was glad that she’d had it when she needed it, but she was sad indeed for the loss of such a sentimental object. She didn’t have many of them, but this was one of the few material objects in this world she liked to keep with her in the barracks. Of course she would be able to find another one to train with but it had been given to her by her father. It was irreplaceable.

She gave Thor a tight smile of thanks for letting her know and they made their way

 

...

 

Sif was devastated about the loss of her stone sword but she had a feast to attend. Loki wasn’t yet fully healed, but Odin tended to push public appearances on the boys before they were ready as their injuries rarely scarred in their still barely ripe years. The Allfather liked to parade his sons around while their grizzly injuries were still glaringly visible, the uglier the better. Thus he proved their manhood, strength, courage, virility or some other bullshit that the men of Asgard liked to carry on about.

Sif sighed as she and her lady's maid tried to find a gown that the warrior could wear that wouldn’t irritate her chest wound and not flash her assets to all of the nobility at the same time. Straddling the two vocations of noblewoman and warrior had been a hard balancing act at first, but Sif and her mother had come to find a workable system after a century or so of trying different ways of tackling the two disparate but equally important aspects of her life.

Her gowns were all kept in her mother’s care in her family home, as well as the various members of staff Sif had rare need of, content as she was in the barracks.

One day she might have stabilised her reputation and career enough to live elsewhere or even marry but until then Sif bunked in her small spartan room in the officers’ quarters near Hogun and Fandral and was entirely content. Volstagg had a wife and growing family so he was elsewhere again, and of course the princes had their lodgings in the royal apartments as anything else would cause a strain on the Einherjar who were responsible for the protection of the royal family.

She decided on a midnight blue gown that would show her wound off to Odin’s satisfaction and yet she was fiercely feminine with her skirts flaring open as she walked, cinched with one of her favourite gifts from Queen Frigga over the years, given to her on her name day shortly after she’d saved her son’s lives another time some years before. It was a girdle made of solid gold which came up between her breasts and only slightly supported them while accentuating her charms as well as her slim waist. It was also engraved with wolves and suited the silver embroidered stars on her gown in a theme Sif hoped Loki enjoyed. She knew his magic would not be honoured for what it was this night and so she wanted to give it her own recognition, if a silent one, at the very least. 

As always for these events she dressed like she wished to be undressed. she dressed for the eyes of one person, and hoped that this time he’d notice.

Surely the wounds she bared for his protection would achieve at least that, she thought as she inspected her image while her maid braided her hair- even if her various wiles didn’t.

 

...

 

The banquet was as fine as they always were. Odin’s speech was inspiring, Thor was enthusiastic and bawdy, Frigga was utterly radiant; and Loki. As always, Loki was shy, his ears hidden away in one of his formal helms but if she could see them she knew they would be stained red with all of the attention.

The feast was ostensibly to celebrate the gaining and sharing of knowledge, the return of the scholars from their journey, and the peaceful relations with all the realms; the ambassadors all present as Odin paraded his brave triumphant son before them as well as Sif with her own proud battle wounds, warning them of the cost of going up against the might of Asgard. Of course the Muspell ambassador was utterly mortified that people of his realm dared to harm the prince, not only because it placed him in a rather embarrassing position but also simply because he counted Loki as a personal friend, and was worried after his well being. The two chatted most of the night, among Loki’s scholar friends though Sif was both thrilled and terrified as those green eyes slipped across the table and took her in repeatedly during the course of the meal.

She could hardly eat for all of the tumbling her stomach was doing with that coveted gaze meeting hers though the rest of his face held nothing of what he was thinking as she nibbled at her meal and sat in on a discussion with Frigga over the trade in different materials for her weaving. Sif of course was not a magic user and could not weave but she did sit in with Frigga from time to time to make sure her stitches were up to scratch and not falling behind. Though her preferred sharp object was a sword her mother reminded her often that being able to survive in court was equally important. And while she had been adamant of her mother’s wrongness in her youth Sif had to admit that the skills she had been taught had indeed kept her in Frigga’s good graces as well as Odin's and that was something she would never wish to end. The Queen was after all just as fierce with a sword as Sif was. And the young warrior aspired towards her excellence in all other things such as wisdom and grace though she was sure she failed at both.

As it was all winding into the time of night where stories are told and glasses of mead were emptied and refilled over and over Sif saw that Loki’s seat was empty. She looked around to the exit and sure enough she saw him about to exit. Her heart thudded in her chest as she watched him turn and catch her eye, motioning for her to follow.

She met him in the hallway and Loki gave her a small, nervous smile as he bowed his greetings. “My Lady Sif I have a gift for you in thanks for this latest display of friendship and bravery.”

Sif smiled back but shook her head, “Loki surely you know that I will always-”

Loki stopped her with his hand. “Please, come, I think you will wish to see this.”

So Sif walked with him through the corridors to the royal wing, her mind racing as she realised what their destination would be.

 

 ***

 

Sif stepped into Loki’s apartments behind him and looked around curiously, nodding her greetings to Loki’s manservant Magnus as he closed the doors behind them.

While Thor’s apartments were clearly optimised for entertaining, Loki’s were clearly designed around his passion for learning and sorcery. She even saw a small greenhouse out on a small balcony they passed that clearly held the type of living things that Loki deemed too precious or perhaps dangerous to entrust others in the care of.

Every room was filled with shelves of books and there were display cabinets all over the place, showing artefacts of so many different kinds, many that again were clearly locked away so that his staff or overly curious people like his brother could not touch things that should not be handled.

Sif vaguely recognised a great number of them. She was aware that Loki often brought things home from their travels but she had never seen them again and tended to forget them as they went on more adventures and accumulated more artefacts and treasures. For her, the practical experiences of survival and the realities of real life battles were the treasure. The more skills she gained the better in her opinion -one that she shared with Loki though their interests were infinitely different. Clearly every object they’d collected was meticulously cleaned and mended then catalogued and carefully preserved once they made it home to Asgard.

It surprised Sif how much it warmed her that these items, some of which they had all almost died to collect, steal or borrow or ’‘rescue’ as Loki liked to label it- seemed to be appreciated so much. She’d never really thought about it before, but seeing it all meticulously laid out, almost like a visual history of all of their quests and adventures gave her quite the emotional response and one that she was not expecting.

They filed through room after ante room when finally they reached the sanctum of his apartments, Loki’s tidy workroom and study; with heavy golden doors ajar and showing his bedroom. Sif had been so distracted she hadn’t realised until she took in the golden long boat of his bed, the carefully made green sheets and luxurious furs just through those doors that it would be a rare visitor indeed that had been invited this far into his apartments. She stifled her blush and tried to still her heart that had started to gallop at the possibilities her imagination leapt at for what it could mean.

Loki caught her eye with a smile when he picked up a large object from his scrupulously tidy but obviously well used desk and passed it to her.

Sif took the proffered sword with both hands, her mouth dropping open when she realised what she was holding. “Loki I couldn’t the Giantess’ weapon?” She ran her hands over the shimmering dark surface, made of a material she had never seen before. the blade, hilt and handle all made of the same piece, surely a magical conduit for the giantess’ fire magic to travel through. The edges were killing sharp though it was Muspell’s fire that did the most damage, as Loki’s slowly healing body could attest. It looked almost as if she held black ice or glass, the light glittering through it as it formed prisms from the intricate cut and faceted designs in the handle. She turned it around, admiring the beauty of an expertly crafted weapon. “I admit when I saw Isak poking around the bodies I didn’t know what he was up to.”

Loki laughed, his eyes bright as he watched Sif’s reaction avidly. “He’s a good student. He knew well what my first question would be when I woke up.”

Sif ran her hands over the beautiful sparkling hilt once more before she handed it back, surely to be catalogued and placed on a shelf somewhere in this collection rather than to be used as such a beautiful weapon deserved. “Sire I appreciate this gift but I can’t, you earned it, brought it back within your body, you know the rule. It’s yours.”

Rules they had all agreed on centuries ago when they started finding treasures on their adventures. This rule was perhaps the most practically crude of them all. You kept the belongings of those you killed, except if you carried it home in your body like Loki had. Even if he hadn’t Sif wouldn’t have been able to kill the giantess without Loki’s ice sword which had also been attached to his person at the time, so then was it Sif’s hand that had killed their foe, or Loki’s?

She tried once more to hand it back but Loki shook his head. “Oh no, _that_ one is over there.” He wrinkled his nose a little. “I’m still uh, _cleaning_ it.” he pointed over to a tank containing a silvery substance on a table that was bubbling away and Sif walked over to inspect it in order to see if it was a trick, but fair enough there was the glittering dark twin of the blade Sif was holding, she shuddered a little too at the particles of what was surely parts of Loki floating up and away from it. Grizzly, but not the worst thing she’d seen. She knew from other expeditions that mages had to obliterate all traces of their flesh, even hair and nail clippings lest someone gain the means to control them or their power.

“The one you hold was the weapon that broke your father’s sword. It’s yours. Oh which reminds me.” He turned to another table and Sif saw her beloved father’s gift. It was still in pieces, but they’d been carefully collected, down to the tiniest chip and carefully laid out. “I’ll mend it as best I can. I’m sorry, you’ll never be able to spar with it again but I thought that you’d wish to keep it all the same.”

At that Sif’s heart made a clumsy tumble within her chest. This was a Loki barely anyone knew but who Sif adored utterly. He was infinitely considerate and hardworking and so incredibly thoughtful Sif had to breathe through some tears which were starting to threaten.

She successfully stifled the urge to cry her thanks still came out rather horse.

“No, Lady it is I who should be thanking you. Without your aid it is not only I that would have perished. I promise I shan’t be so foolish again. The next venture I go on will have a martial contingent, no matter how small the task at hand. Isak will be a force to be reckoned with someday but it was foolish of me to think that together we’d be enough defense on such a realm.”

Sif shrugged with an understanding smile. As your father said tonight, opportunists rarely allow themselves to be expected. They aim to surprise every time. Your visit was sanctioned and in pursuit of knowledge. Who knew that cult even existed?

Loki shook his head as if to say that was sorry that he did not. Sif realised they had grown extremely close. As always when they were standing like this Sif wondered at the intense symmetry of their forms, the only two black haired beings born of Asgard. She got a little lost in his eyes for a moment.

She had no idea who made the first move; all Sif knew was that Loki’s lips were Valhalla.

All her famous discipline was lost as soon as she felt his mouth on her own, she sighed and bit softly that small ledge under his bottom lip that had been her damndest temptation all of these years. Much of Loki’s most appealing features were oft hidden beneath his high collars and thick, heavy armour but his lips, gods his lips had tortured her for centuries

 Of course she did have _quite_ an extensive knowledge about the rest of his anatomy from fighting beside him and sparing him (and bodily pinning him to the ground) for a few centuries but that was beside the point. Right now he was kissing her and nothing outside of that mattered. Nothing.

He seemed to enjoy the feel of her teeth on him as he moaned softly and pushed it further into her mouth, sucking her tongue into his own with a level of skill she could get used to. His hands too were on the move, trailing sensuously along her arms, up her silk covered back while he drew closer to her with a grip on her girdle at the small of her back.

Then, in a surprising turn he stopped, pulling away and shaking his head as if to clear it. “No. Sorry. We can’t-”

Feeling like she’d been slapped Sif jumped back with a thousand awkward apologies, and shaking slightly, took another step back towards the way they’d come, keen on a quick escape but Loki caught her wrist, his long fingers closing softly just under the gauze bandage protecting the freshly healed skin.

“Sif, sorry I meant- not _in here_.”

She turned back to see him, cheeks flushed with arousal and hooded eyes, drawing her towards his bedchamber. She was utterly unable to disobey his gentle ushering even if she wished it, his beguiling beauty so utterly enchanting to her.

He drew her through the doors and closed them behind her, trapping her in the cage of his arms as he did so. And with a nary a blink on his part she could hear the locking mechanisms magically click into place. She’d been so busy looking at him she hadn’t realised he was still talking. “...not wise to fuck around that many magical objects.” He was saying, “Weird things tend to happen.”

Sif pulled her addled wits together enough to reply. “Weird things?”

Loki relaxed, pulling back from the doors with a nod, slipping unconsciously into his awkward scholarly setting as he answered her, his eyes brightening with the engaging of his mind. “Yes. When you uh...when emotions are _high_ things tend to explode, portals open to strange places, that kind of thing. Actually it’s interesting-” Loki trailed off from his lecture  when he looked at Sif and saw the way she was looking at him. He swallowed thickly, and went willingly when she grabbed the front of his armour and pulled his mouth to hers once more.

She didn’t bother with playing coy this time, scraping her teeth under his mouth and moving her hands over his armour, which conveniently had a heap of graspable metal parts in order to manoeuvre him into any position she liked.

He seemed to enjoy this treatment if the noises he was making were any indication.

She was quite aware he was injured, handily however Sif had long ago learned just how much Loki could take. She had been sparring him for years, and one of his favourite tricks was to use his relative fragility and big green eyes against you to get your guard down. The only way around this was to know just how much he could take, so that you would never be fooled by one of his feints- and also to never actually seriously wound a prince of the realm by ignoring a real injury.

Loki was smart, but so was Sif and she had long ago learned how to handle his body on the training ring. Here now she put that knowledge to use, and it seemed she had not been the only one taking notes.

When she let him up for air, the black of his pupils and tousled hair were enough to make her stomach do summersaults and her heart thud clumsily in her chest.

She’d seen the prince debauched before, but never had she been the one to do it and the effect the sight of such a thing had on her was powerful indeed. She pulled him back to her, ravenous for more, determined to undo him as much as possible.

There had been one thing that Sif had wanted to do ever since she had accidentally caught him in flagrante so many months ago, and she gave in to her wildest desires. She looked Loki in the eyes, and he stared defiantly back, his inherent arrogance doing things to her insides, stirring even more fire in her loins than she’d ever felt in her life. She reached up, firmly taking a hold of each of the horns on his helmet as she leaned forward and licked his lips. Loki moaned, his mouth opening and Sif licked further into his mouth, kissing him sensuously while using her strength to push him _downwards_.

Loki moaned again into her mouth as he realised what she was asking of him and he willingly went to his knees before her, their kiss breaking off once he was too far down for her to reach. Instead he nuzzled at her dress with his nose and clutched at her with his hands, touching her breasts, her waist, her hips, his thumbs just brushing over where she wanted him before they veered away to explore her arse and begin to pull open the skirts of her silken gown so that he might reach the place he desired most and where she was aching so deliciously for his attention.

All the while Sif held on to his helmet. It was one of his formal alternates, sparkling gold and flawless, chosen tonight because of this particular model’s lack of face guards so as to show off the wound from where the giantess had scorched him, just missing his eye by the barest hairsbreadth. The mark had healed some but was still pink and jagged though it would be completely gone in a day or two. Sif grinned a victorious smile that was all teeth as Loki finally got under her skirts and leaned forward, inhaling her as if she was the finest scented flower in his mother’s garden, “Oh, my Lady Sif, I have been wanting this for _so long_. You have no idea how many times I have thought about burying my face in your quim. Making you come undone with nothing but my tongue.” Loki murmured into her skin and Sif sighed as he nibbled at the join of her hip and thigh lightly. He made to kiss more of her leg but she tightened her grip on his helmet, and nudged him with her thigh, steering him right where she wanted him. Loki groaned loudly at the stern treatment before kissing her on the lips of her centre and finally, finally bringing that silvered tongue into play, licking up her slit, moaning at the taste of her desire and licking her once again before beginning to work her, sometimes licking, sometimes kissing and other times wantonly slurping at her juices which flowed freely as he moved her towards passion’s inevitable crest. Sif leaned her head back against the golden doors of his bedroom and was quietly thankful for her firm grip on his head as he grabbed at her left thigh and encouraged her to wrap it over his uninjured shoulder so as to have a better angle to devour her with. She gave it gladly.

This was it. The pinnacle of pleasure as she had ever known it. There was no way that Sif had ever felt this good in her life. Not only was Loki, the man she had desired for so long making her feel like she was in Valhalla but the _noises_ he was making were riling her up further knowing that he had desired this too.

She looked back down just in time to be caught in his intense green gaze as he took her organ into his mouth and _sucked._ And that was all it took, she was spilling over, arching away from the wall and riding his mouth as she cried out. The prince worked her through it all with a skill she’d never even remotely experienced through her shudders and cries before she finally came down, still quaking a little and holding onto Loki’s helmet for dear life.

The prince rose slowly; holding Sif’s hip to keep her steady as he came to his feet. He let her leg slip down from his shoulder to his hip but he kept it there, his hand sliding down her thigh to grip it hard enough to bruise just below her arse, which made nearby parts of her which she had believed to be sated only a moment ago to sit up once more and pay close attention.

Loki’s face, when she looked into it was also hard. The beatific submission that had made her crazy a moment ago had all but vanished, and for the first time Sif found this just as interesting. As she met hard eyes the planes of Loki’s armour pressed into her along with something else which was usually far softer. Sif gasped as she felt as he pressed his rock hard cock against her centre. It was hard to tell through all the leather but Sif was sure he was as satisfyingly big as she always hoped and suspected.

Sif swallowed thickly and finally brought her hands away from his helmet, wandering them down his jaw line; her thumb nail just grazing the edge of his wound as they trailed down. Loki’s teeth were bared as she touched him, his eyes closed, his breathes deep; and she felt his member harden further against her with the slight pain. She grabbed his face firmly and kissed him until she could taste blood. Loki moaned into her and once again Sif was immensely pleased with how vocal he was, and how responsive he was to her touch.

He slipped both his hands under her arse and lifted, encouraging her to wrap her legs around his torso. She did so, letting him pick her up as their kiss continued. Loki disappeared his helmet now that its usefulness was over and Sif happily took handfuls of black hair, pulling it viciously and making him hiss with both pain and arousal.

He pivoted on his feet and threw her onto his bed, following close behind but Sif caught him with her thighs as he tried to pin her down, using his own weight to throw him hard onto the furs. They wrestled for a while, both grinning and laughing stealing intermittent kisses and caresses and bites and pinches as Loki tried to pin Sif and she continued to leave him wanting. As she was using his grabable armour to her advantage he disappeared it, delighting her with miles of exquisite flesh to play with instead and her delight in the game only made her fight harder for dominance.

Sif’s own’ dress was in complete disarray, her straps had long fallen down with her breasts exposed and chest wound bared and skirt falling open to reveal everything a hungry prince could ever wish to see. She pushed Loki onto the floor with a powerful kick and he paused on the return simply taking in the sight of her where Sif sat kneeling on the bed, chest heaving and legs spread wide. Taunting him further in a wanton display preying on his proclivities Sif reached down to her soaked slit and stroked along it slowly, lifting her finger to her mouth and moaning at the taste. Loki stared at her hungrily, looking as if he couldn’t believe she was real and Sif caught sight of something truly wild in his eyes as he pounced.

This was enough play, she decided. She needed _more_. Sif used Loki’s momentum as he fell upon her to push him onto his back and pinned him, using his injury as a weakness but not to hurt him and she bit his neck, making him moan loudly and arch his back beautifully off the bed as he finally submitted to her attentions. Sif arranged herself so that she was straddling his chest, her skirts spread out behind her dramatically. The golden girdle holding everything in place was too complicated to get off right at the moment and as Sif watched as Loki reached up and reverently stroked the engravings in the gold garment. His eyes travelled up to meet hers and Sif saw his cognition that truly it was not only he who had been wishing for this moment. She took his hands and pressed them one to each breast, rubbing herself on the sharp planes of his body as he stroked and twisted her nipples skilfully. Truly those hands were gifted indeed.  

Sif couldn’t take it anymore, she needed him inside her so she shifted backwards and took him in hand, delighting in the sound he made as she stroked the silken skin a few times, coating him in his own precome before positioning herself over him and sinking onto his hard flesh, looking down at her prince as she finally, finally took him into herself.

The expression on his face was of wonder and adoration and pure pleasure. It was something she had seen before, having a knack for engendering a certain awe from her lovers with her rough and tender treatments but seeing the expression on her coveted prince created a feeling in her chest she had no words for. She sank down to the hilt, taking all of him and paused for a moment, both of them panting for breath from their exertions and the intense stimulation before Sif simply _needed_ more and she began to move,

As always while in this position Sif gloried in the power inherent and that she could feel in and below her own body but this was even more so. Not only was Loki a prince of the realm and physically strong and lithe but he was a mage who had recently been described to her as the most powerful sorcerer in the nine realms and Sif gloried in having all of _that_ under her, within her. There was nothing like it.

She rode him slowly at first, sliding up and down that exquisite cock and simply enjoying the feeling but soon enough she needed more and used her strong thighs and ass to work Loki up into a state she rather enjoyed him in. So she kept him there as long as she could, building him up and then down again, denying his orgasm until she herself had come twice more before Loki was begging, pleading for release.

Once again the power she felt was unbelievable and she wasn’t sure that she ever wanted to leave Loki’s bed.

This was only strengthened further as she watched him as he crested over, his orgasm coming so violently and the bliss etched on his face so beautiful she forgot to breathe.

Turns out she wasn’t the only one. She moved off of him swiftly and lightly tapped his cheeks calling his name for a moment before he came to, sucking in a giant breath but not taking his eyes off of Sif who was sure she looked just as wrecked as he did. She combed her fingers through his hair and reached for a glass of water by his bed and got him to take a few sips before she let him kiss her again, lying down next to him in the furs and scattering kisses over his face and letting him run his hands and mouth over her wounds before they both fell into slumber completely sated and content.

 

...

 

 He was still there fast asleep and twined around her when she woke in the morning, despite his usual penchant for early rising. His cherubic face was utterly beautiful in the morning light, relaxed in slumber under his feather soft hair which had regained its natural curl overnight. Sif rolled to her side and watched him for a while, reveling in her conquest and wondering at the fact that she had slept the night through in his bed, not used to doing so with her lovers at all. She found she secretly loved the concept of sleeping entwined with her love even if she wouldn’t be admitting that aloud for quite some time, if ever.

She stroked his cheek softly and he woke slowly, those big eyes blinking up at her for a moment as if trying to decide whether she was really there. Sif leaned down and kissed him to show him that she really, truly was.

She decided to let him do all the work this morning and was rewarded for that decision as Loki enthusiastically explored her body with his hands and his mouth and found many new ways to make her scream into the early morning to her surprise and his utter delight. She made sure he did a little screaming of his own but he didn’t seem to mind all that much at all.

Finally it seemed that she should be making her way back to the barracks but when she had found her last piece of clothing Loki pulled her into a consuming kiss. And as they separated she opened her eyes to see that they were in her quarters. His ability to work magic while otherwise occupied turned her on, and she made sure he knew it. As she pushed him into her bed it squeaked, making Loki jump and pull a face in consternation. He rocked the bed and looked so scandalised at the noise it made that Sif laughed. “You have to sleep on this?” He asked and Sif nodded, still laughing.

“But how do you-” Sif raised her eyebrows mysteriously and replied “I find ... other ... places. Having my sexual partners spotted entering or leaving my waters would cause too much annoyance for me in my position anyway so it’s fine.” She brushed it off, but Loki didn’t seem convinced. He gingerly got up off the bed and gave her a scorching kiss before disappearing before her.

She stood there clutching her shoes for a moment wondering what that meant.

As she washed and dressed and headed to the training grounds the question lingered in her mind. Had she just been a conquest, something to try once, to be able to say that he had? There had been many men who had done such a thing in the early days, though these days she tended to do the seducing and picked her paramours wisely.

She tried to shake it off but by the end of the day she was tired and sore and grouchy, and she begged off going to the tavern with her friends to go home and polish her weapons, her favourite de-stressing activity. As she opened her door however she jumped in surprise at the sight of two divinely long leather clad legs poking out from under her bed.

Loki poked his head out and gave her a sheepish smile. “Oh you’re home earlier than I had guessed this was supposed to be a surprise!” he ducked back under and continued to do whatever it was that he was doing while he said “I needed to return your swords anyway, so I thought I’d just-” there were a few bumps and a squeak and then he used his knee to nudge the bed and it moved without a sound. He sighed his relief dramatically.

Sif was glad he couldn’t see her face at such a lovely little act. They still hadn’t talked about it but she felt such a relief at his mere presence in her quarters that she felt positively giddy. She bit off her smile and pounced on his legs, dragging him out from under the bed. “What are you- oomph-” his consternation was muffled as she shoved a glove in his mouth and undid his pants quickly. Loki’s eyes widened as Sif licked a line up his penis, which was quickly hardening as he realised what she was about. He pulled the glove out of his mouth and started “Sif, you don’t have to-uhhahhh- oh Nor-ns!” he stuttered as she continued in her pursuits and he bit back down on the glove and let out a groan as she sucked him into her mouth. Sif reddened at the thought that it was the same glove that had muffled her own sounds that fateful night a few months ago.

She swallowed the feelings that brought up along with his cock and decided that out of all the rewards for her bravery she’d ever received, this was the best by far.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked my story!
> 
> I tried to slip a bit of foreshadowing in there about Loki's ethnicity. in the movie you can see that a huge amount of the shock he gets is feeling super stupid that he never figured it out when he's supposed to be so smart and I wanted to explore that a bit. 
> 
> I mean it isn't a Loki story if there isn't any angst, even if it's just implied. 
> 
> And I hope I got the balance right about a young sif who has dom feelings but also really romantic ones and how it's all a confusing jumble in her head and her hear and Loki is so PRETTY! I don't blame her. 
> 
> Also yeah Sif is a bit of a dom but they don't ever really talk about that type of thing because Asgard so they don't really have a name for it. I hope I adequately implied that she does aftercare though without detailing what she does. is that clear? because she does aftercare. that's a thing. 
> 
> Also I suppose the head-cannon about Odin and the way they dealt with scarring and whatever I don't know, it was just a thought. 
> 
> and the fucking around magical objects? he he. I might write a fic about that one time. 
> 
> oh! and yes I got Magnus, Jonas and Isak from Skam because I was being lazy about names. obviously Jonas and Magnus are older but Isak is that smol blonde student. yup. lil magic man. Imagine him trying to fight a fire giant!?!
> 
> Oh! and my other headcannon is that Sif and Thor and probably Fandral all named their horses like cute cat names as a joke when they were younger but they're massive Asgardian war horses and so Loki's black horse is called 'Snjókorn' which is a word for 'snowflake' in Icelandic and Sif's was supposed to be like 'fluffy' but is called 'Mjúkur' which is 'soft' in Icelandic and they're like, magnificent and smart and brave creatures with these cute names he he!
> 
> and my sort of world building thing with the fabrics like 'sky silk' is just something I made up that is made on alfheim and sort of acts on it's own like floaty sort of like it's got less gravity type thing. so you move and it just sort of floats over. I don't know, just a thing I think about because I'm a fabric nerd.
> 
> I think that is all the things. feel free to ask stuff though. anyway, hope you liked!  
> xx KG


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